


Darker Days

by et_byad



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gender Dysphoria, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 19:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16859935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/et_byad/pseuds/et_byad
Summary: Depression has its ups and downs. One moment you feel fine, the next you wish you could sleep for seventy years and not have to deal with anyone or anything ever again. Damien’s been dealing with it for years, but he still has those bad days. Luckily, Robert is there to try to help.





	Darker Days

Damien sighed, hearing his phone buzz from the bedside table. The sound seemed louder as it travelled through the wooden furniture, like taking a cheese grater to his eardrums. Fighting his way through the tangled mess of blankets and sheets he’d wrapped himself in, Damien grabbed his phone, squinting at the sudden brightness of the screen through the dark bedroom. His notifications were filled with texts from Robert that he’d been ignoring since that morning.

> _Robert:_  You’ll NEVER believe what I saw last night
> 
> _Robert:_  I’ll give you three guesses
> 
> _Robert:_  Ok you’re sleeping in, fair enough it’s like 10 am. fine I’ll just tell you
> 
> _Robert:_  I’m like 99% sure I saw the Dover Ghost again????
> 
> _Robert:_  Not even joking. I’d never joke about the Dover Ghost
> 
> _Robert:_  Dames? It’s nearly noon, come on, wake upppppppp
> 
> _Robert:_  I’m boredddddddd
> 
> _Robert:_  If you’re not awake by one I’m gonna go over there myself
> 
> _Robert:_  Hey, Lucien came over around 2 and said you’re not doing great, everything ok?
> 
> _Robert:_  Dames, come on, I know you’re probably reading these
> 
> _Robert:_  If you need space, let me know, but until then I’ll keep harassing you until you feel better
> 
> _Robert:_  Ok I’m actually concerned now, Dames, it’s just past 3 and you haven’t talked to anyone all day
> 
> _Robert:_ Damien Bloodmarch, it is four in the afternoon and no one has heard from you all day. Your son is worried sick, I’m concerned, and the others... well, they’re busy but I’m sure they’d be too if they knew what was happening
> 
> _Robert:_  Fuck it I’m coming over.

Rolling his eyes, Damien set his phone to silent and shoved it back onto the bedside table, flopping back onto the bed. He could feel the soft blankets around him, making him feel warm in a melancholy way, and he clutched a pillow to his chest. Feeling another bout of sadness come upon him, he pressed his face into the soft pillow, letting it muffle his sobs. Long nails dug into the pillowcase, teeth biting down on the corner to try to relieve some of the painful sorrow.

He _really_  hoped Robert’s threat was an empty one, he wanted nothing more than to be alone right now. Or did he? He could’ve just texted Robert, told him to give him space. But he didn’t _really_  want that. No, he wanted someone to prove they cared. Someone to prove his self-doubt wrong. But he didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want anyone to know the sorrow he held. The conflict in his mind only made him cry harder, head throbbing from the tears and chest tingling sadly. Why was he such a burden? Why couldn’t he be in control of his emotions? Why wasn’t he a better father? A better man? Why wasn’t he better?

He’d been going to therapy for years now, he had his life on track, but... he still had darker days. Worse days. Days where he wanted nothing more than to be sealed in some crypt until he felt ready to face the world again. Days where he hated himself, hated everyone around him, hated himself for hating everyone else. Days where he wanted to do nothing more than to yell and argue and make everyone hate him as much as he hated himself. Days where he did all he could to push people away, to make them see how terrible he really was, to make them see that they were better without him.

It was destructive, and he knew it, which was why he isolated himself instead. Was it a healthy coping mechanism? Probably not. Though, it didn’t really hurt anyone, and Damien usually just wallowed in misery for a few days before feeling better. It was the healthiest coping mechanism he had so far, and he was working on getting better, so perhaps he should allow himself this. Allow himself to isolate instead of ruining his relationships, allow himself to be sad, allow himself a little bit of self loathing. Okay, fine, no it wasn’t healthy at all. But he was still working on his depression, still learning to manage it, it was never going to be an instant process.

“Dames,” Damien heard Robert’s voice through the door, softer than usual.

Robert sighed as he gently knocked on the door, stomach tight with worry. When he got no response, he slowly pushed the door open, the light from the hallway spilling into the otherwise dark room. It smelled like incense and flowers and it was well taken care of, as always. If it weren’t for Lucien’s warning, Robert wouldn’t have even noticed anything was wrong. But now, he saw the mass of blankets on the bed, heard the muffled sobs, and he knew Damien wasn’t okay.

Stepping inside, he passed the light switch, instead grabbing the matches that were always on the dresser and lighting the various candelabras around the room. In the dim glow, he could see the room better. Damien was curled up tight in the middle of the bed, and Robert could only see glimpses of him from under the blankets. Some strands of dark hair, a pale calf, unpainted nails... he noticed some nail polish remover on the bedside table alongside Lucien’s hair clippers.

“Dames,” Robert tried again, sitting on the edge of the bed, “please answer me.”

With a great sigh, Damien lifted his head enough to look at Robert, “...what...”

Robert felt relief when he realised Damien hadn’t gone through with cutting his hair, “what’s wrong? Was it something one of us did?”

Scoffing and rolling over, Damien buried his face in the pillow again, “don’t be so selfish,” his voice was muffled, but annoyed, “don’t make _my_  depression about _you_.”

Robert reached out, gently running a soothing hand over Damien’s back, but pulling away when Damien tried to shove him off, “you’re right, sorry. Look, we’re all just really worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Robert furrowed his eyebrows, “because we care about you...? I don’t know, we just do. We’re worried, does it matter why?”

“I’m not worth worrying about,” Damien felt the tears welling up in his eyes again, “I’m just bringing everyone down, faking things for attention. Faking being trans, faking being depressed. Just... stop paying attention to me.”

“Dames,” Robert’s voice was heavy as he moved to settle on the bed, “what bullshit has your depression been feeding you this time? If you were faking it, you’d be able to stop. Just because you have good days doesn’t mean you don’t still have depression. And so what if you have long hair or paint your nails? If a cis guy did it you wouldn’t question if he was really a man, so why should anyone do the same to you just because you’re trans? It’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit. I know it’s hard, but you gotta block it out.”

Damien’s nails dug into the pillow and he choked back a sob, “go away. Just go away.”

“No. Not right now, not when you need me,” Robert sighed softly, “look, if you _really_  want me to go then I will, but... just let me _try_ to help? Please?”

Damien didn’t reply, settling back into his previous position, face buried in a pillow and surrounded by blankets. Robert took his silence as agreement, and he kicked off his shoes, moving to sit properly on the bed. After a moment, he reached out and gently placed a hand over one of Damien’s. He knew too much contact might be overwhelming, so he stuck with gently stroking the back of his hand, humming softly. Damien relaxed under the touch, slowly uncurling from around the pillow. He was still crying, but he felt less alone, less sad.

“Let me know when you’re ready to talk,” Robert was so soft and gentle, so different from how he was when things were alright.

Finally, Damien rolled over, placing his head in Robert’s lap. Robert gave a sad smile, running his fingers through Damien’s hair gently. They sat like that for a while, neither one bothering to talk. Damien was feeling better, still sad but less so than before. Robert was just trying his best to support Damien in the way he needed to be supported.

“I hate myself,” Damien finally admitted, voice small and broken.

Robert gave a sad chuckle, thumb rubbing gently against Damien’s hairline, “it happens to the best of us.”

“I know. And I know it’ll pass. But... I guess I just worry that it won’t. That this is the last straw and I’ll be stuck in a depressive episode for the rest of my life. I worry that I’m not good enough of a father for Lucien. How can he turn out normal with a father like me?”

“He won’t,” Robert replied, “he won’t turn out normal, but he was never going to. That’s just who he is. Lucien’s fine. Yeah, he’s worried about you, but he understands. Your depression isn’t going to mess him up, not while you’re seeking help for it, not while you’re managing it as best you can. You’re so open with him, he knows what’s wrong, so he’ll be fine. Pretending you’re okay when you’re not will fuck him up much more.”

“He deserves better. You all do.”

“Better? Better than a really sweet guy who’d do anything for the ones he loves? Better than someone who’s selfless and kind and so genuine and supportive? None of us could have it better than you, especially not Lucien. You take time to listen to his problems, you’re honest and open with him, and you do your best to encourage him. Who could ask for a better father?”

Damien smiled ever so slightly, closing his eyes, “I guess so... but I still feel bad that you all have to deal with me when I get like this.”

“We’re not _dealing with you_. We’re helping someone we love get through a tough time, like anyone would. Like _you_  would. If we didn’t want to help you, we wouldn’t, we do it because we care. And because you help us when we have problems too,” Robert replied, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to Damien’s forehead, “we don’t help you because we feel like we should, we help you because we love you. I help you because I love you.”

Damien snuggled closer to Robert, sighing contently, “I still feel terrible,” he admitted.

Robert gave a fond smile and nodded, “I know. Loving words won’t make you feel totally better, no amount of love can cure your depression. Just as long as you know that your brain is lying to you and that we all care, that’s what matters. Feel bad for as long as you need to, we’ll support you through it, and even once you feel better we’ll continue to support you because feeling better doesn’t mean you’re not depressed. Because everyone needs help sometimes.”

“Thank you, dear Robert,” Damien’s elegance was back as he pulled Robert down to cuddle with him on the bed, “I feel tired.”

Robert smiled, holding Damien close and rubbing his back gently, “there’s my handsome prince. Let’s nap.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [writing blog](https://et-byad.tumblr.com/) maybe?


End file.
